


plummet

by hikari (sincerelysame)



Category: Haikyuu!!, ハイパープロジェクション演劇「ハイキュー!!」| Hyper Projection Play "Haikyuu!!" RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Lapdance, M/M, Photographer Akaashi Keiji, Pro Volleyball Player Bokuto Koutarou, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-06
Updated: 2018-12-06
Packaged: 2019-09-13 00:41:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16882362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sincerelysame/pseuds/hikari
Summary: The pretty Photography major straddling him looks pissed as shit."I'm so sorry about this."He's really not.





	plummet

**Author's Note:**

> I just love torturing Bokuto. And how the fuck do you make "Implied-" or "Metioned-" or even shit tags like "Kinda lap dance"?

The pretty Photography major straddling him looks pissed as shit.

"I'm so sorry about this."

* * *

As an Education major, Koutarou should not have been invited to elite college parties. But as a starting player on a prestigious sports team being scouted for the national league, Koutarou should be invited to elite college parties.

And he is.

His Education degree is a fallback, since his mother insisted. After a career of being the best wing spiker Japan will ever have, he plans to coach. Maybe return to Nekoma and train the newest litter of kittens he finds.

Now though, Koutarou is enjoying the perks of a sports scholarship at Toudai, preening at the praise and attention that a winning spike against Kyushu Uni gets.

The sun has just begun to set, his favorite song is playing on the stereos somewhere (Ariana Grande will always be awesome), he has half a cup of cheap beer, and Koutarou feels like he can conquer the world.

Oikawa, their amazing setter, drops right next to him, a bottle of some kind of alcohol in one hand and a girl in the other.

"Enjoying yourself, Kou-chan?" Oikawa trills above the pounding music.

"Yeah!" How could be not?

He's pursuing his passion at the top university in the country and doing a damn fine job at it. A party thrown in his honor, in Oikawa's honor, in their team's honor, is happening around them. Scouts have contacted their coach, he has a trial for the national team in three months with Oikawa Tooru, the best damn setter he has ever played with, and life is good. Life is so good.

An arm wraps around his throat and Koutarou flails, his half-drunk beer spilling into the carpet.

"Brokuto!" Someone screams into his ear as an entire body flops onto his back.

"Brokuroo!" Koutarou angles his body to catch Tetsurou in his arms, returning the chokehold with a noogie that does not do any favors for Tetsu's already atrocious hair.

"Congrats on the win!"

"Congrats to us!"

"Oya?"

"Oya, oya?"

"Nice work on your Intro to Neuroscience paper proposal too, Tetsu-chan." Oikawa sneaks into the loud, boisterous conversation. "At least it wasn't as bad as the last one~"

Koutarou recognizes that tone and tries not to laugh. This is what happens when an Astrophysics major and a Biochemistry major are in the same room together. Well, not really. It's what happens when a shallow, perceptive bastard like Oikawa and a provocation master such as Kuroo find a kindred soul in each other.

They just have to annoy the hell out of one another.

"Just because your proposal on aliens was rejected because it was ridiculous-"

"They're out there, Tetsu-chan, and you know it-"

The girl, who Koutarou forgot was even there, laughs.

"My, my. And who is this?" Tetsu wiggles his eyebrows at the nameless woman attached to Oikawa's hip. It would have the desired effect on anyone who doesn't know how Tetsu can blather on about neurotransmitters for hours or his intensely pathetic crush on his childhood best friend who's studying Computer Engineering and Graphic Design in Shibuya. But since Koutarou and Oikawa do know all that and more, Tetsurou just looks like a dork.

The girl flushes as expected.

"My name is Minami. Congratulations." She smiles, white teeth glittering in the dim light.

Tetsu smiles too, but it's another thing that Koutarou recognizes and it doesn't make him want to laugh in Tetsu's face.

"You're awfully cute. If everyone here is as cute as you, then I'm assuming Iwaizumi is having a great time too, right, Oikawa?"

Oikawa freezes for just a bit and if Tetsu and Koutarou weren't expecting it, they would have missed it. Just like Minami, who is still smiling in her nice skirt and loose top, confused but pleasant enough.

And now forgotten.

"I wouldn't know, Tetsu-chan. Come on, Mina-chan, let's get a refill."

Oikawa stands up and walks away at a pace Minami has trouble keeping up with. The bottle is still full and they are no longer holding hands.

"That was mean, Tetsurou." Koutarou narrows his eyes disapprovingly.

"I just said Iwaizumi must be having fun. Which he deserves, mind you. That Anatomy and Physiology 1 final was awful."

Koutarou smacks Tetsu on the shoulder and while Tetsu is a middle blocker, defined and structured, Koutarou is a fucking tank. He received a ball with his torso once. Tetsu doesn't fall over but if he winces a bit, it isn't a character flaw.

"Oikawa needs to get his head out of his ass." Tetsu finally mutters.

"I'll believe that when you finally tell Kenma-"

Koutarou is shoved into the wet carpet.

"Excuse me?"

Koutarou pushes himself upwards, hoping to nail Tetsu in his stupid mangy cat face, but falls on his ass in the wet spot of the carpet as he looks up in disbelief.

"Hey, I'm Terushima Yuuji. I'm the organizer of this little celebration party and I hope our star players are enjoying themselves."

Koutarou knows who Terushima is. The kid is insane. Their entire brotherhood is.

But he isn't the one Koutarou is staring at.

"My friend wanted to ask you a few questions for the university paper."

Long fingers and large palms reach out to him. There are calluses on the tips of his fingers. Ink is smudged on the knuckles.

"Hello, Bokuto-san. May I have a moment of your time?"

_You can have the rest of my life, if you wanted._

Akaashi Keiji.

* * *

 

Koutarou met Akaashi Keiji during a compulsory General Psychology class last year.

Well, "met" is such a strong word.

More like saw then openly gawked at for an entire semester.

He was smart, at least based on the few times he was called to explain some theory of personality or Freudian concept.

He had such a nice voice.

They interacted once. It was a pop quiz, Koutarou didn't have a pencil, was on the verge of a meltdown, Akaashi turned around from the seat in front of him and set down a pencil on Koutarou's paper.

It had owls on it.

Koutarou hasn't given it back. It's still in a locked drawer in his dorm room.

"Akaashi Keiji?"

Koutarou knows that Tetsu can smell the want in the air. And Tetsu is not the type to forego an opportunity.

"Of course Bokuto wouldn't mind."

Of course not. Why would he?

"Under a few conditions."

What conditions? He would give Akaashi anything. His favorite volleyball, his highschool varsity jacket, his spot on the national team.

Akaashi nods and it's the most graceful action Koutarou has ever witnessed, perfect tosses and impossible receives be damned.

"Of course, Kuroo-san. I would understand that this is a bit sudden, and I would not want to jeopardize Bokuto-san's privacy in any way..."

_Please, jeopardize me. Use your long words and longer fingers, baby, I won't say no._

Terushima hangs an arm around Akaashi's shoulders and tugs him closer. It's protective in a way Koutarou would usually respect, but it's annoying. It's really, really annoying. Koutarou swallows down the growl crawling in his throat.

Akaashi Keiji and his messy dark curls, his green eyes, the scrunch of his nose when he scrolled through pictures on his tiny digital camera, how his brow smoothed out when he had his earphones plugged in, the red of his pout after a hot sip of coffee from the university cafe...

Koutarou has no claim to any of that.

"Wait a hot second here. What kind of conditions? I'm not letting you get your cute ass into any trouble, Keiji. Chikara would kill me, and Ryuu would help hide my body. I wouldn't get a proper burial. My family would be in mourning forever. My soul will know no rest-"

"God, you're dramatic." Akaashi (keijikeijikeiji) grins.

Since Koutarou's brain has effectively stopped working at this point, Tetsu pops into the conversation and proceeds to ruin Koutarou's life.

"Sit in Kou's lap."

(He's still not sure if he should sabotage Kuroo's confession or buy an apple pie for the event.)

"Excuse me?" Terushima gapes. Akaashi's sweet green eyes are wide but his expression is otherwise unaltered.

"You're excused." Tetsu replies like the dead meme he is. "Ask all the questions you want, as long as you do it on Kou's lap."

Terushima looks absolutely giddy, his golden piercings glinting. But his face sobers and his hold on Akaashi tightens.

"As long as you follow my condition, Mister Ace Superstar."

"Don't I get a say in this, Yuuji?"

"Shush, Keiji." Terushima bats at Akaashi. Terushima looks Koutarou in the eyes. Koutarou is larger then Terushima, and even on his ass on the floor, it shows. Terushima "Let's have fun and make the most of life" Yuuji, just smirks.

"Hands off the art."

Akaashi pinches Terushima's side and he squeals.

"Let's just please get this over with." Akaashi looks irritated but... fond.

He sits on the carpet next to Koutarou while Terushima whines. He's warm. His cologne smells like citrus and mint.

"I'm only doing this for our Journalism class. We won't have to take long."

Tetsu tips his head to one side and please Tetsu, shut up. "Do we have a deal?"

Akaashi is silent.

"Would you like to sit on the couch, Bokuto-san?"

* * *

The pretty Photography major straddling him looks pissed as shit.

"I'm so sorry about this." He's really not.

Akaashi Keiji is wearing soft gray leggings and a large black hoodie. Koutarou is allowed to be in awe.

Koutarou has a lapful of a gorgeous two-year crush and he isn't even allowed to touch. He'd give up his scholarship to be permitted to tap his pointer fingers on the bump of Akaashi Keiji's exposed ankles. Koutarou knows he'll be jacking off to Converse sneakers for the next six weeks.

"It's all right. You didn't orchestrate any of this. It'll be faster if we just go along with it." Akaashi side-eyes a smiling Terushima and a cackling Kuroo.

People walk in and out of the room, pointing, chuckling. Some even watch.

It isn't how Koutarou had imagined getting Akaashi to straddle him. He pictured the experience in his dorm room, the lights all off. They would have just come back from a date somewhere, doing something Akaashi liked, eating something Akaashi wanted. Akaashi would be a little tipsy, maybe a bit giggly. He would nip at Koutarou's ear and ask so politely if he could stay the night. Koutarou wouldn't resist.

Akaashi shifts on his thighs and Koutarou swallows a groan. He'll take what he can get.

Akaashi has a notepad and a pen, his phone which is recording the interview settled in the dip of his hoodie.

"So, why volleyball, Bokuto-san?"

"How did you overcome your initial struggles as an athlete?"

"What do you have to say about mental illnesses and mental health care in the athletic community?"

"How about the rumors of you going pro?"

They're really good questions and Koutarou let's out a small smirk. Akaashi is brilliant.

Koutarou answers every one. It's good practice since he isn't as "media-friendly" as Oikawa is. He's impulsive and honest but approachable. It takes more than just approachable, though.

Not with Akaashi. Akaashi takes every answer Koutarou gives with a nod and a hum. It's almost like a charming conversation over dinner after a movie.

If only Akaashi would stop shifting.

Everything smells like limes and crushed mint leaves.

There's a beautiful boy on his lap, he can hardly hear his best friend's laughter and considering _hmms_ at Akaashi's questions let alone his own thoughts.

He's trying to regulate his breathing, digging his uneven nails into the cushions, trying not to rut into the soft cotton fabric of Akaashi's fucking tights, trying to keep up with the questions, the friction, the lack of friction, warm warm weight nestled snug over his half-hard cock, a cute pert ass pressing into his kneecaps, a beautiful fucking boy with tuggable hair and love me tender eyes and Koutarou can't touch because _I swear to God if Terushima Yuuji wasn't watching I'd have my hands all over the art_ -

Koutarou's hips move upwards anyway, little jerks and twitches that barely jostle Akaashi out of place. He rubs Akaashi's shoelaces between his fingers so he can focus on not stuttering and the concept of being content.

But Koutarou, the idiotic masochist that he is, looks up from Akaashi's notepad spirals.

There's a flush high on his cheeks, like Minami's but prettier. His green eyes are hazy and opaque. Uneven front teeth sink into his bottom lip, making the flesh swollen and plump.

Akaashi pushes back on Koutarou's swollen cock once.

Koutarou whines. It isn't fair.

"Thank you for your time, Bokuto-san."

While most people came and went, not many stayed. It wasn't a raunchy lap dance like everyone may have been expecting for their star player but Koutarou definitely felt like he had gotten one.

Akaashi slowly, torturously slow, climbs out of his reach and Koutarou bites down on every plea for him to stay, stay here, stay close, _let me love you._

"Well, that was quite the show. We're not talking to Chikara about this, right? Did you get everything you need, Keiji?" Terushima claps, looking absolutely delighted.

Akaashi (keijikeijikeijikeijikeijikeijikeiji _KEIJI_ ) nods again. Why is nodding so elegant.

"For the most part." He responds, looking not nearly as flustered as Koutarou might have imagined.

"We'll be taking our leave now, then. Enjoy the rest of the party!" Terushima ushers Akaashi ( _KEIJI_ ) out of the room as if he had not singlehandedly ruin him for anyone else.

But Akaashi stops and turns back to Koutarou.

"Bokuto-san."

Koutarou watches him, mentally cataloguing every flawless feature. _Take a nice long look. You'll never get it this good again_.

"You were phenomenal out there. On the court, I mean. I took pictures." He smiles.

Koutarou impressively keeps his jaw from dropping.

"I'll see you around."

Terushima groans in a way that sounds teasing and pulls Akaashi into the crowd.

At the beginning of the night, Koutarou felt like he could take on the world. Right now, he could barely manage not to cum in his jeans.

Nothing like a painfully awkward, intensely frustrating encounter with a lovely boy to humble a man.

Phenomenal. Akaashi said he had been phenomenal.

_I'll see you around._

Koutarou lays flat on the couch with his face in the cushions. The pressure on his dick doesn't help but Koutarou refuses to rut into it like a confused middle schooler.

"So, how bad?" Kuroo asks as he sits on Koutarou's spine.

He feels like screaming.

"The absolute worst."


End file.
